


Here be Dragons

by Auchen



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Dragons, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Dragons, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-10
Updated: 2014-04-10
Packaged: 2018-01-18 22:20:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1444927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Auchen/pseuds/Auchen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(Fantasy AU) Molly was traveling with a group of traders into town when they were ambushed by robbers. Barely escaping, she now wanders the countryside hours later, hopelessly lost. She doesn't think the day could get any worse until the shadow of a dragon falls upon her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Here be Dragons

**Author's Note:**

> Though this is a fantasy AU and Sherlock is a dragon shapeshifter, it is not a Hobbit crossover. I hope you guys enjoy. :)

She trudged along the crest of the hill, dust trailing in her wake. Tremors still shook her limbs, even after the terror of the attack was hours behind her. Molly swiped away a trickle of sweat that ran down her temple. She stopped once again to survey the landscape around her, trying to find discernible land marks. A sign, a horse trail, anything. But the rolling hills stretched out on all sides, as unreadable as they had been minutes ago.

Sitting down on a stone, she leaned her chin on her knuckles. Someone else must have escaped; she couldn’t have been the only one. She had been able to slip away between the screaming knot of horses and men as the robbers fell on them at all sides. She closed her eyes, trying to remember if she had or heard any of the traders trailing behind her, but her memories were a swirl of violence.

 

Molly opened her eyes and looked up at the sky. The sun was riding high, bearing down upon her. She would have to find water soon, but she also needed to rest. So she sat, trying not to remember blood smeared on the trees by clutching fingers.

As she rested, the sun continued to burn, sending down fingers of light that trailed against her scalp. For one moment, Molly wished she hadn’t left the cool shadows of the forest behind. 

After a few more minutes she rose from the stone, looking down at the dirt that now clung to her ragged dress. It hardly mattered now, the dress was ruined already. Molly sighed, wiping a hand across her face. The morning had started out so hopeful. The traders had been nearing the town, and she would soon have had the chance to set up her own healing shop with the herbs she had brought with her.

But her supplies were now strewn across the forest along with the bodies of the men that had carried them.

Her feet throbbed as she began to walk again, continuing along the path she had been following for the past hour. The sun followed her trail as dutifully has it previously had until a shadow flitted across it. At first, Molly didn’t pay it any mind. It was probably just a cloud or a large bird. But then the shadow came again, larger this time, and with it came a breeze that stirred the grasses.

A crease pinched Molly’s brows. What was happening? She craned her neck to look into the sky. The black silhouette of a dragon circled above her, its tail trailing behind it like a ribbon it as its wings stirred the air.

Knots began to twist in her gut. There was nowhere to run, no boulders to hide under. Her pace grew quicker. Did dragons give chase when their prey ran?

The breeze grew stronger, now turning into a wind that whipped the grass like a tossed ocean. Molly’s heart pounded in her chest, and sweat stuck her dress to her back. If there was any time to run, it was now.

She  began to tear across the never ending hills, heart in her throat, images of that morning running through her mind. The point of a blade, the bottom of a horse’s hoof coming for her head as she  _ran ran ran._

 _Swoosh, swoosh._ The wing beats of the creature were coming closer. 

She refused to look back as the air grew hot and thick. Her legs burned. Her feet hit a stone, tossing her down a tall, steep hill.

She fell through the tall grass, the world spinning around her, dirt stinging her eyes and biting her throat. She hit the bottom of the hill, and sucked in a deep breath, greedy for air.

_Thump._

A trickle of dirt ran over the lip of the tall hill. Molly rubbed her still burning eyes. Rocks cascaded down, landing at her feet. Her limbs shivered, refusing to move. She swallowed. 

So this is how it would end. Not at the hands of a robber, but in the claws of a dragon.

Its long neck crested the hill, jaws slightly open. It had rows of jagged teeth, yellow from years of tearing flesh and cracking bones. Its jaws shut, and its bright gaze flickered to her. Its eye blazed orange, tracking the line of her body as if it were deciding the best way to cut her apart.

And perhaps that’s just what it was doing. There were tales of how dragons were as intelligent as they were ruthless. It raised a foreleg, gripping the rim of the hill.

Molly backed up, energy flaring within her again. If she was to be killed here, she would not die like a rat cowering in its hole. But still fear twisted in the pit of her stomach. 

A sound rumbled from the dragon’s throat. Its nostrils twitched, perhaps scenting her fear.

Molly stood. The dragon poised its second foot on the edge, the tip of its wings curved above it.

Her whole body shivered, pathetic and small in the presence of such a beast. But still she leaned down, fingers searching among the tall grass.

She quickly found a rock and grabbed it, its edges biting into her palm. The dust plumed around the dragon’s feet as it took another step closer, orange eyes fixed on her.

Sucking in a breath, she threw the rock as hard as she could at its head. The rock struck its mark beneath the dragon’s eye. It jerked away, snout wrinkled in a snarl, pupils contracting. 

Smoke rose from its nostrils.

Her knees wobbled, and her stomach rolled. At least she had tried. At least she had made an effort. At least—

The air around the dragon shimmered and roiled, and its neck started to twist and shrink. The slash of its shadow upon the ground pulled away from her as the dragon collapsed in on itself and reformed. Certainly hitting a dragon with a rock couldn’t have been  _that_ effective. A laugh hiccuped out of Molly at her joke. What else was there to do in that moment but laugh?

Seconds later, a man stood at the ridge of the hill. He began walking down, feet not slipping. He was not dressed with frothing lace and unnecessary blues of the rich, but had the smart cut of a waistcoat and jacket meant to impress.

He held his head with the same regal air as the dragon. Because he  _was_ the dragon. It was was the only logical conclusion to what she had witnessed, despite how absurd it sounded. 

The man stopped in front of her, face placid. Molly’s hand still shook, a trickle of blood sliding down her finger from where the rock had cut into her palm. The man’s nostrils twitched. She closed her hands around the slick of blood.

He smiled a smile that was sharp and cold, even in the absence of fangs.

The fire of his golden eyes had been replaced by the cool green-blue of the ocean, but she could still see the same cunning there.

"You’re brave, but still nervous." He waved a hand at her shivering shoulders. He tilted his head, bird-like, sniffing the air again. "Though you're bleeding, you also have some blood on you that's not your own. The survivor of an attack.”

Molly swallowed again, trying to still her shaking, traitorous limbs. She raised her head and clasped her hands behind her back. “What do you want?”

The dragon-man shrugged. “To enlist your services.”

She took a step back, mouth falling open. “W-What? My…services?”

What could that possibly mean? But then, she probably didn’t want to venture a guess.

He smiled again, wide and white. It wasn’t predatory, but there was no warmth behind it either. “You’re a healer, aren’t you?”

Her eyes widened. The afternoon was becoming surprising with every second. Dragons surely had no need of healers. “Y-yes.” She coughed, hoping to still the quiver in her voice. “I am. How did you know?”

"I can smell herbs on your fingers. One of them is comfrey. That is an herb commonly used to heal wounds. And under that I can smell ivy, used to treat burns. I could go on, but the conclusion is obvious." He laughed, shaking his head as if he couldn’t believe her idiocy.

Molly shifted on her feet. She had loosened her grip on her hands, but she wasn’t letting her guard down. “All right. But why would you need the help of a healer? You do not appear to be wounded.”

The man took another step forward and started to pace in a circle, restless with energy contained in a too-small body. 

"I’m someone people go to when they need help."

"They come to a dragon?" She raised her brows, almost scoffing.

"Don’t look so surprised. Draconic intellect surpasses human intelligence, and I get bored. It’s beneficial to both parties. This help usually solving murders, and I have decided you could be quite useful in my endeavors." He stopped pacing to stand next to her, looking at her over his shoulder. "Do you have some in experience discovering the cause of someone’s death?"

Molly hesitated. She shouldn’t continue talking to him; he could just be toying with her for some sort of twisted game until he decided to devour her. But he hadn’t made any threatening moves so far. Even as a dragon, he’d had many opportunities to simply burn her then and there.

"Yes, I have some experience," she finally replied.

The man’s eyes lit up, and he whirled to face her. “Excellent. You’re as useful as I calculated.”

"But why should I help you? We’ve only just met."

"Because when I first saw you, you seemed to be traveling without purpose. You are a young woman unescorted as well, which is uncommon in these parts, especially considering that you appear to come from good breeding. Even before I landed, you were afraid. You absolutely reeked of it in fact." He wrinkled his nose. "And as I said earlier, you are the survivor of an attack. Conclusion—you don’t know where you’re going, and you also probably have nowhere to return to."

Despite herself, her eyes lowered. Her mother told her she didn’t want Molly to return unless she had found success and a husband in town, and the prospects of either were becoming increasingly low.

And even if she  _could_  make it to town, her supplies were smashed, and she had no one to recommend her for employment as a healer.

"I can offer you a job. I can promise you the people I work for would be interested in your talents." The man pulled on the cuffs of his jacket.

"Even if all you say is true, I-I still don’t believe I can trust you." Molly let her arms fall to her sides. 

The man heaved a deep sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Are you really that thick? I’ve given you a generous offer. I haven’t harmed you since I landed, and I had ample opportunity to do so, especially when you hit me with that rock. Take the offer or leave it.”

Molly crossed her arms. What he said  _was_  true, and it would certainly help take her out of the position she was in now. And she could always leave when she wanted. She twisted her hands against each other. 

The man was pacing again, shoulders rigid.

"All right," she breathed.

His shoulders lowered and as he faced her, he was smiling again. Still empty, still cold. But still not a killer’s grin. “Excellent. We shall leave now.”


End file.
